I should have simply walked away,
On writing the words “End of Play.”
Was a ceremony at church today,
Burning papers on which we had written
Something we could strive for in 2012
And something from 2011 to forget.
On that one, I wrote your name.
And cried my final tears.
So, here I am, completely free,
Pity I’m trapped in this body.
I love the quiet of Christmas day,
When every other tenant’s away.
No rude noises or sudden bangs,
Sweet silence in the cold air hangs.
No more Muses of Fire, Dear Lord.
Of crazy men, I’m getting bored.
What a world
What a world
Here we go again
Back to square one
Hoping the young
Will fix it again.
This poem causes me to reflect on my life too...It's weird sometimes to think of myself at 52 and not at all where I thought that I would be...We'll rock on into the New Year and make it a good one...Well done...xoxoxo
ReplyDeleteThank you, Janet. I'm here at 62 and retired already due to Disability. We all have to start appreciating the small things and in this economy redefining success. Plays and poems are all words in bottles. I'm tired of the rat race of looking for success and love and think it's best just to rest. And bitterness helps no one's life. Age is a bitch! lol
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